


Exploration

by asexual-fandom-queen (writeordietrying)



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, STIs, Safer Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeordietrying/pseuds/asexual-fandom-queen
Summary: Over the past couple of months, since coming to the screeching realization that his feelings for Buck are less than entirely platonic, it’s all Eddie’s been able to notice. How good Buck looks with his head tipped back, lips wrapped around the lip of a bottle. How he keeps his thick, muscular thighs spread when he sits next to Eddie, like it’s a goddamned invitation.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 33
Kudos: 471





	Exploration

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【授权翻译】【紧急呼救9-1-1/Buddie】探索](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941369) by [D_A_Y](https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_A_Y/pseuds/D_A_Y)



> Inspired by a Tumblr prompt from @diaz-evan: "OKAY SO. Buck teaching Eddie things. Sexual things."
> 
> The "Buck teaching Eddie things" angle doesn't feature as prominently as maybe it should have, but I started writing, and this is where I ended up. 
> 
> Discussions of a character having genital herpes because normalize STIs yo!

Eddie’s still getting used to Chris going away on sleepovers. 

“Relax, man,” Buck teases, knocking Eddie’s knee with his own. “You gave the mom like five emergency contact numbers. Chris is fine.” 

Buck’s body is loose and open, legs spread wide, torso slouched against the plush cushioning of the sofa back, bottle of beer pointing straight up where it rests against his abdomen, just above the shining buckle of his belt. Eddie glances at him, spread out and contented, from the corner of his eye and feels a flush of heat prickle up the back of his neck, sweat beading nervously on his forehead. Over the past couple of months, since coming to the screeching realization that his feelings for Buck are less than entirely platonic, it’s all Eddie’s been able to notice. How good Buck looks with his head tipped back, lips wrapped around the lip of a bottle. How he keeps his thick, muscular thighs spread when he sits next to Eddie, like it’s a goddamned invitation. 

“Six, actually,” Eddie says, taking a pull of his beer to do something with his mouth other than latch it against Buck’s neck. “I gave her Cap’s, too.” 

Buck has the nerve to laugh at him, shoulders shaking, nose scrunched, arm snaking, slow and languid, around his stomach. 

“He’s my kid,” Eddie defends, chuckling a bit, too, despite himself. He nudges Buck’s shoulder with his own, enough to jostle him, then keeps their arms pressed from shoulder to elbow. Buck’s heat feels like a brand. “I’m allowed to be overbearing.”

“Hey,” Buck says. He lolls his head to the side to blink up at Eddie through his lashes. His eyes are so blue. It isn’t fair. “I’d have wrapped him in bubble wrap and never let him leave the house, so you’re doing better than me.” 

Eddie finishes the remaining third of his drink in one go. He holds Buck’s gaze all the while. “You’re too much of a softie with him,” he says. 

Buck flashes him an impish grin and flutters his lashes. “No such thing,” he argues. 

Eddie scoffs. “Get back to me on that when he’s a teenager and suddenly he’s walking all over you.” 

Buck is silent for a moment. His charming, megawatt smile settles into something more muted, more pensive. Eddie’s brows crease watching the shift in Buck’s mood. After a moment, Buck hums. 

“I’d like that,” he says. “Not the _getting walked all over_ part, but the part about being around when Chris is older.” 

Eddie tilts his head. “Where exactly do you think you’re going that you won’t be here?” 

Buck shrugs with one shoulder and glances away. He chews on his lip, then follows Eddie’s lead and drinks the rest of his beer in a rush. His sudden evasiveness unsettles Eddie, ties knots in his stomach that feel an awful lot like dread, that whatever’s going on in Buck’s head right now spells trouble for the status quo of their relationship Eddie’s been trying so desperately to cling to. 

“Evan?” 

The use of his first name catches Buck’s attention like the crack of a whip. He straightens his spine and trains wide, nervous eyes on Eddie. 

“I don’t know, man,” Buck says, his voice quiet and small. “I figured maybe you’d have someone else around by then. That’s a long time to be alone.” 

Eddie’s heart thunders erratically in his chest. “I’m not alone,” he says. “Not when I have you.” 

It’s too raw, too honest. Buck looks at him with glassy eyes and a slack, open mouth, lips chapped, and pink, and parted in surprise. Eddie’s chest is tight with panic – panic that he’s messed everything up, that he’s played his cards so close to his chest for so long, and in the space of one hushed, vaguely tipsy confession, he’s laid them on the table for Buck to see, to understand, to _reject_. 

Buck’s gaze flicks to Eddie’s lips. 

It stays there a long time before raking up to meet Eddie’s eyes.

And fuck it, but Eddie’s going all in. 

In the space of a breath, Eddie lurches forward and wraps his hand around the back of Buck’s neck, pulling him in for a breathtaking, toe-curling kiss. 

Eddie’s never kissed another man before. Never thought about the possibility much, until Buck. He’s thought about it since, thought about it in retrospect. Eddie remembers the action heroes, the classmates, the telenovela stars he used to think about, used to _be_ _curious_ about. Remembers the thoughts he shut down before any could fully form, or be explored. They hadn’t been safe then, in his town, or his family, or his career. 

A lot’s changed to make him feel comfortable now, sitting on his couch, in his living room, with his son away on a sleepover and another man’s tongue in his mouth. His city, his job, the _world_. Eddie’s parents happened across Austin Pride on a long-weekend getaway and spent the next month telling him how much they enjoyed themselves. Tears itched at the back of his eyes the whole time. 

Comfort, though, has little to do with Eddie finally acknowledging his feelings, acknowledging this part of himself.

Chalk that up to the wrecking ball that shattered through his carefully crafted walls that is Evan Buckley. 

Buck, who’s kissing him back, whining into Eddie’s mouth and fisting his hand in Eddie’s shirt, pulling him closer, drawing him in, _consuming_ him like he’s been starving for it. Eddie’s just as hungry, stretching his arm down as far as he can and dropping his empty bottle the rest of the way to get two hands on Buck, to run his fingers through his hair and tug in a way that makes Buck mewl, turn to putty under him. 

Eddie’s so swept up in how good it feels to have Buck pliant under his touch he acts on instinct, throwing his leg over Buck’s hips and sliding into his lap. Both of Eddie’s hands press against Buck’s shoulders, pushing him back into the cushions, pinning him down with the full force of his weight. It feels different to be the one straddling someone’s lap, to feel hard muscle under his body, hardness stirring under his ass. It feels good, though, too. So good Eddie’s head is swimming. 

“Ed,” Buck pants, pulling his mouth away with a soft, devastated groan. His head falls back against the sofa, and Eddie lowers his mouth to bite and suck at the pale column of his exposed throat. Buck moans and rock’s his hips under Eddie’s lap. 

“Don’t,” Buck says, pushing against Eddie’s chest. Eddie goes, takes his lips off Buck’s skin even though it feels like dying, because Buck said don’t, so he won’t. He stares at Buck open-mouthed, breath puffing across the other man’s face. 

Buck swallows thick. His fingers twitch against Eddie’s chest. “Don’t start something if you don’t mean it.”

The breath punches out of Eddie’s lungs. “Of course I mean it,” he says, leaning in to press his forehead against Buck’s. He’s taller, at this angle. He moves one hand from Buck’s shoulder and finds his bottle of beer, loosens Buck’s death grip and tosses it to the far end of the couch, out of the way. Eddie brings his hand back to slide up the side of Buck’s neck, tilting his chin to look up at him. 

“Yeah?” Buck asks. He sounds so small and uncertain. 

Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest. “Yes.” 

He’s slower this time when he kisses Buck, gives him time to pull away if he’s still unsure, if this isn’t what he wants. Instead, Buck leans in and meets him halfway, sliding his palms up Eddie’s chest and wrapping them around his neck, opening his mouth for Eddie’s probing tongue while Eddie leans into him, pushes him back into the give of the cushions and devours him. 

“I want you here,” Eddie whispers against Buck’s lips as they suck in ragged, greedy breaths. “Always. With me.” 

Eddie grabs Buck’s hand and brings it to his chest where his heart hammers like a drum. Buck must feel it, from the way he gasps. 

“You mean so much to me,” Eddie says. 

Buck shudders. “You do, too,” he replies. 

They’re kissing again before Eddie knows it, breathing each other’s air, tasting each other’s tongues. Buck’s hips roll and Eddie squirms in his lap, rocks his hips back to meet him. His hands tug at Buck’s neckline. He stretches it out to press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to the top of his chest, under the hollow of his throat. Buck works his hands under Eddie’s Henley and drags it across overheated skin. Eddie pulls his mouth away from Buck’s collar long enough to slip the Henley over his head, then returns the favor and peels Buck out of his shirt. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Eddie breathes, seeing Buck laid out, chest bare before him. Buck flushes, and Eddie watches his skin turn rosy pink, climbing up his neck and across his cheeks. His eyes shine so bright, look so blue. 

Buck ducks his head, presses his forehead against Eddie’s sternum to hide his blush, then places a quick kiss between the center of his ribs. “You should look at yourself right now,” he murmurs. 

Eddie shakes his head. “You’re the only one I have eyes for,” he says. He coaxes Buck’s head up again, then kisses him, long, and slow, and deep. 

They spend what feels like forever on Eddie’s couch, making out like a couple of teenagers. Buck is hard under him, and Eddie’s own pants are uncomfortably tight. He’s nervous – the only cock he’s ever touched is his own, and while he’s sure a fair amount of the technique must transfer over, the thought of taking Buck in his hand, touching him, jacking him off, fills him with equal parts excitement and trepidation. 

Eddie’s hands start to tremble, and Buck catches his wrists as his fingers brush over Buck’s abs on their way to his fly. 

“We don’t have to rush,” Buck whispers, low and sweet against Eddie’s lips. 

Eddie tries to lighten the mood with a breathy chuckle. “You’ve obviously never tried having sex when you’ve got a kid,” he says. 

Buck frowns. “I don’t care when we get to have sex, Eddie,” he says. “If we don’t get time alone for another two years, hell, until Chris goes off to college. That’s not all I’m here for.” 

Eddie blinks past the sudden pressure behind his eyes. “I know that,” he whispers, bumping Buck’s nose affectionately with the tip of his own. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I wanna have sex with you. Now.” 

Eddie feels the way Buck’s whole body shivers under him. “ _Oh_ ," he says. “Yeah, okay.” 

It’s like Eddie’s admission flips some kind of switch. Buck sits up to his full height, cups the back of Eddie’s skull and licks into his mouth, slides his hips forward and pulls Eddie close with his other hand against the small of Eddie’s back. He’s suddenly an active participant, not just following Eddie’s lead but taking control, guiding him, taking him apart. 

“Jesus, Evan,” Eddie groans. He rocks his hips, grinds his stiff cock through the confines of his jeans against Buck’s abs and moans. His hands are still shaking, but with adrenaline this time, when he lowers them to undo Buck’s button. 

He gets the button undone and the fly down before Buck shifts, presses against Eddie’s waist and puts space between them. He looks nervous, all of a sudden, fingers leaving twitchy trails against his ribs. 

“Before we do this, we should probably discuss some things,” Buck says. 

Slowly, a bit unsure, Eddie nods. “Okay,” he says. He’s suddenly nervous, too, staring down at Buck in all his trepidation. Eddie’s had a lot of sex, but most of it’s been with the same person, and all of it’s been with women. Are there conversations unique to men having sex he hasn’t considered? And if there are, and he hasn’t had time to think about them, what if he says something stupid? Or something _wrong_?

“I have herpes,” Buck says, catching Eddie off-guard in the middle of his spiraling panic. “Uh, genital herpes. I’m between outbreaks right now, it’s just– it can still be transmitted, even without the sores, and using condoms _is_ safer, but it’s not a one-hundred percent guarantee.

“There’s other stuff we can do, too, with less risk,” Buck adds. He’s a ball of nervous energy, shaking under Eddie’s hands. “Hand jobs, toys, as long as we’re careful about fluids, and not sharing stuff.”

He’s so obviously expecting a rejection, and Eddie pauses for a second, tries to gather his thoughts to find the exact right thing to say to wash the tension from his shoulders. 

He waits too long, and Buck whispers a quiet, abortive, “sorry,” squirming under him, trying to get away. 

“Hey, no,” Eddie says quickly, holding Buck’s head between his palms. He leans forward and kisses Buck, tender and slow, until Buck isn’t so jittery. “Don’t apologize. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” 

“I get it,” Buck says. “If you’re having second thoughts.” 

Eddie frowns. “I’m not,” he says. “Honestly, Buck, a lot of this is new for me. I’ve never– with a guy, before.” 

Buck’s hips jerk in interest. He flushes, and Eddie lets out a soft, amused chuckle, running a hand soothingly across Buck’s bare back. 

“Besides,” Eddie says. “Even if I’d slept with a hundred guys, none of them would have been you. Whenever I thought about us, I always expected that I’d need to explore you.” Eddie places a kiss against the thundering pulse in his neck. “Get to know you” – another kiss – “Figure out how we work together.” 

Buck shudders against him. “You thought about us?” he asks. 

Eddie chuckles, runs his nose over Buck’s Adam’s apple. “All the fucking time,” he says. “For months. I thought I was gonna lose my mind.” 

“I could help you lose it,” Buck says. 

Eddie sucks in a shuddering breath. “That so?” he asks. 

Buck nods. “Take me to bed and you’ll find out.” 

Eddie doesn’t need asking twice. He stumbles to his feet, a little gracelessly, nearly tripping over his discarded bottle of beer. Buck laughs, but Eddie still offers him a hand to pull him to his feet. He turns his wrist and interlocks their fingers, keeps their palms pressed together as he leads Buck down the hall to his bedroom. 

It’s getting dark out, so Eddie turns on the overhead lights. He wants to see Buck when he cums, has never wanted anything more for as long as he can remember. 

“Take these off,” Buck huffs, half-pressed against Eddies mouth as he kisses him deep, and slow, and filthy. He works the button and zipper on Eddie’s jeans and shoves them down his thighs. Eddie returns the favor, sliding his palms down the back of Buck’s jeans and pushing them down. 

“How do you wanna do this?” Eddie asks, when they’re both in their underwear, hard, and needy, and panting into each other’s mouths. 

Buck palms Eddie’s cock through his briefs, and Eddie sees stars. “You’re the beginner here,” he says. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re up for?” 

“Feel like it would be shorter to give you a list of things I _don’t_ want you to do to me right now,” Eddie huffs. 

Buck’s eyebrow quirks. “Do _to_ you?” he repeats, the question obvious in his tone. 

Eddie swallows thick. “Yeah,” he says. “Is that okay?”

Buck’s hand wraps around his ribs, travels down his back and rests between the cleft of his ass cheeks. Buck presses, still over the fabric, and spreads Eddie open. Eddie feels the pressure of Buck’s middle finger as he rubs teasingly against his hole, and it’s almost enough to turn Eddie’s brain to static. He grunts and jerks his hips against Buck’s thigh, then rocks back, chasing the feeling of Buck’s finger working him open. 

“Good?” Buck checks. 

“Uh-huh,” Eddie replies, pressing his forehead against Buck’s shoulder and letting himself _feel_ everything, the drag of Buck’s finger, the gust of his breath, the beads of sweat dripping down the column of Eddie’s spine. 

“Can I touch you under your underwear?” Buck asks, whispering the words against Eddie’s temple. 

Eddie nods. 

Buck doesn’t slide his underwear all the way off, just dips his hand under the waistband and touches him same as before, one finger rubbing against his asshole, the very tip pressing inside, teasing, but this time, they’re skin to skin, and everything is so much more intense. Eddie ruts against Buck’s hip. 

“You ever done this before?” Buck asks, and Eddie isn’t sure if he means with a partner or by himself, but the answer is the same either way. 

“No.” 

Buck curses. The sound goes straight to Eddie’s cock. 

“Lube?” he asks. 

“Bedside table,” Eddie says. 

Buck kisses him again, hard and deep, then finally, _finally_ pulls Eddie’s underwear over his hips and off. “Fucking gorgeous,” he whispers, and Eddie’s whole body zings with electricity like Buck’s praise is a livewire. 

He lets Buck walk him backward to his bed, exchanging quick, desperate kisses as they go. Eddie’s knees hit the mattress and he falls back against the duvet. Kicking and tugging, Eddie wrestles the cover to the floor at the foot of his bed, settling back against the sheets while Buck watches him with an amused smile, tugging the bedside table open without looking. 

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles. 

Buck doesn’t point out that he hasn’t said anything, but he does laugh, which is the same thing. 

Grabbing the lube from the drawer, Buck sits at Eddie’s side, right against the curve of his waist. He runs his broad, open palm up Eddie’s chest, and Eddie shivers. 

Buck leans in and kisses him. “I wanna finger you open while I jerk you off, until you cum all over my hand,” he says. “Can I do that?” 

Eddie groans and rolls his hips. “Please,” he says. 

Buck doesn’t need more convincing. He opens the cap on the lube and squirts a generous amount on his index finger. “This’ll probably feel weird,” he warns. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. He’s halfway to telling Buck he’s not some delicate flower, but Buck cuts him off with a filthy, salacious kiss that’s all tongue, and a press of his finger against Eddie’s hole. It feels so much better wet. The dry, harsh friction was sharp, intense, but ultimately safe compared to this. This is vulgar. It’s slick in a place Eddie’s never been slick before, obscene with the way it sounds, especially when Buck goes from teasing his rim to actually slipping the tip of his finger inside and fucking Eddie with it. Gentle at first, to the first knuckle, then giving him more, harder, faster, the longer they go. 

“You doing okay?” Buck checks. He sucks kisses against Eddie’s neck that are bound to leave a mark, and more than not caring, Eddie is excited to catch them in the bathroom mirror tomorrow morning. 

“It’s good,” Eddie replies. 

Buck hums, starts working in another finger. “Good as you thought it would be?” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Better,” he says. He’s trying not to be a sap, but it’s hard with Buck’s lips on his skin, his breath in his ear, his fingers _inside_ Eddie’s body. “I feel close to you. I–” He stops himself there. 

“S’okay,” Buck murmurs. “I feel it, too.” 

“You know, it’d be even better if you actually jerked me off like you promised,” Eddie says, because his lungs are starting to get heavy in a way he doesn’t know how to process, least of all with another person, someone he _cares_ about, watching him. 

Buck tsks. “Impatient, impatient,” he chastises, but he doesn’t make Eddie hold out. He drizzles enough lube on Eddie’s cock for him to be nice and slick when Buck takes him in hand, grip lazy and loose, and _tugs_. 

“ _Puta madre_ ,” Eddie gasps, sparks dancing behind his eyes, back bowing. Buck twists his fingers, curls them just so, and suddenly, the sparks are twice as intense. Eddie shakes. “Fuck, Evan. What the hell?” 

Buck’s grin is so fucking cocksure. “It’s good, right?” 

He does it again, just to prove his point. 

“I’m gonna cum way too fast if you keep doing that, man,” Eddie warns. 

Buck kisses his jaw and speeds up. He works in the tip of another finger and Eddie’s back arches. “Can’t be too fast if that’s what I’m trying to do, here, Eddie,” he says. 

“Fuck,” Eddie huffs. He’s unraveling at the seams, barely holding it together. Buck moves from his jaw to capture his lips and kisses him, slow and deep. He reciprocates as best he can, but they’re mostly breathing into each other’s mouths the closer Eddie gets. It’s the best fucking kiss of his life. 

“Come on, baby,” Buck moans against his lips. His arms are straining, muscles rippling, hands working Eddie over hard and fast and every sound in the room is of labored breathing, or mattress springs groaning, or the squelching wetness around Eddie’s cock, between his legs. 

“Cum for me,” Buck coaxes, and Eddie’s off like a shot, back bowing, hips rocking, strangled sounds of pleasure clawing up from his throat where the force of his orgasm’s pushed them up from deep in his belly. 

“That’s it,” Buck whispers. “Just like that.” 

He works Eddie through his orgasm until he’s spent and oversensitive. When Eddie’s muscles finally relax, he melts back into the mattress, and Buck places soft, gentle kisses against the center of his chest, grounding him. 

“That was good,” Eddie says, once he’s breathing evens out. 

Buck chuckles. “Yeah,” he says. “Well, I’m good at what I do. It pays to have experience.” 

Eddie feels the hard length of Buck’s cock pressed against his hip, and squirms. 

Buck catches his uncertainty right away. “You know, you don’t have to be good at this right away,” he assures him. “I’m not expecting some kind of master hand job. You don’t even have to do anything, if you’re not ready.” 

Eddie shakes his head, but can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face. Buck’s gentle. He’s patient. He’s someone Eddie cares about who actually deserves it. “Would you stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me touch your dick,” he says. 

Buck scrambles into action, peeling his underwear off and tossing them across the room. His cock is long, and thick, and flushed so red it’s almost purple. Eddie tracks the length of a particularly bulging vein from the base to the head, then follows the line back down, watching a bead of precum leak from his slit. 

Eddie reaches out a curious hand to touch him, and Buck’s hips jerk under his touch. He lets out a strangled, desperate noise. Eddie is suddenly determined to drag that sound past Buck’s plush, parted lips as many times as he can. 

“Any pointers?” Eddie asks, stroking Buck slow and firm from base to tip. 

Buck shudders. “Bit of lube,” he offers. Eddie takes his advice, opens the bottle and wets his fingers. “Then experiment. Watch how I breathe, if anything you do makes me throb in your hand. It’s pretty intuitive, after a while.” 

He’s not wrong. Eddie’s slow at first, exploratory but cautious. Once he gets his footing though, he’s bolder. He tries different variations of pressure, tries passing his thumb across the slit, twisting his wrist. Buck doesn’t take very long to work up to the edge. 

“Eddie, I’m close,” Buck says. 

Eddie leans in to kiss him. His lips are nearly numb, but it still feels so goddamn good. “Cum for me, _querido_."

Buck groans, and Eddie smirks. “Yeah, I’m definitely gonna like getting you off,” he says. 

He strokes Buck cock again, then a few times more, until finally, Buck whines, high and needy in his throat, and cums across his stomach. He looks so beautiful, flushed, and sweaty, and shaking, laid out in Eddie’s bed. He wants to straddle Buck’s hips and kiss him until their lips fall off, or until they pass out, whichever comes first, but he knows they need to get up first, clean up their cum and change the bedsheets.

But then? Then, Eddie’s going to hold him, and kiss him, until he’s satisfied.

Maybe it’ll take ten minutes. 

Maybe the rest of their lives. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](https://asexual-fandom-queen.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Remember, kudos and comments are a girl's best friend!


End file.
